


Thank You

by macgirlanon



Category: Norman Reedus - Fandom, The Walking Dead (TV), daryl dixon - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 18:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macgirlanon/pseuds/macgirlanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How to properly thank a man who saves your life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank You

"Ugh, really?!" I groaned as the walker collapsed on top of my legs. My elbows burned as I propped myself up on the asphalt. Another supply run gone wrong. Now, here we are, probably miles away from the prison, no supplies, stuck in a walker cesspool that was once of Atlanta's finest strip malls.

"I coulda let it bite ya," Daryl snarled, yanking the corpse up by the shirt, retrieving the arrow from its skull, and tossing it aside like a rag doll. I couldn't take my eyes off the muscles in his arms as he did this.

Daryl Dixon had no idea what a babe he was, which made him all the more alluring. He saved my life about 7 months ago. I was trapped in an old Dollar General store while on a run, by at least 20 walkers. My small group deserted me; I know I'm a weak link...no survival skills. Well, it's history now, so there's no point in going into detail or getting upset about it. Daryl saved me and Rick made the call to take me in. Dixon's saved my life at least 5 times since then, not including the walker he just took out.

"C'mon woman...we ain't got all day!" Daryl said, reaching his hand down to me to help me stand. I happily take it and he pulls me to my feet.

"Thanks, Dare," I say, running my hand down his arm and smiling. I knew Daryl Dixon had boundaries and I took pleasure in pushing every single last one of them. He was dirty, sweaty...wearing my personal favorite cut-off flannel shirt. The blue and grey one, the one that really made those baby blue eyes pop. His brown hair in a matted mess, his jeans holey and ragged. God, there's nothing that couldn't make me attracted to this man.

"Yeah, don't mention it." Daryl said, inching away from my touch, uncomfortably swinging his crossbow over his shoulder.

"How many miles to the prison?" I ask, appraising the distance he just put between us and crossing my arms in silent disappointment. Why couldn't this man want me like I want him?

"I don't know. Wish like hell we didn't have to abandon the truck...but shit...shoulda known it was gonna break down sooner or later," Daryl looked into the distance. "Rick's gonna be pissed we had to abandon it and the supplies," he sighs.

"Well, we are in a strip mall," I motioned behind me to the line of stores. "We can take a gander, might find something useful. There's a baby store and a couple of restaurants...might find some diapers and a few canned goods," I shrug.

"I dunno how safe it is..."

"You're Daryl Dixon. We'll be fine," I smile at him. It's a total shock as he actually returns my smile.

We make our way into a vegan restaurant, hoping to find some canned vegetables. The place has been practically unscathed.

"I guess walkers don't care too much for veggies, huh?" I say, lowering my .380 and proceeding to tuck it back into the waistband of my Levi's. "Look safe?" I look over to my left at Daryl as he cautiously begins to lower his crossbow.

"I reckon, let's see what we find..." Daryl continues to scan the dining room for any signs of danger.

I'm staring again without realizing it. God, he is so beautiful. His arms...they're so toned...I could just imagine him hovering over my body, holding himself up, every muscle in his arms noticeable and-

"What?!" Daryl snaps me out of my hypnosis, his voice sounding thorny.

"N-nothing," I shake my head, trying to stop myself from wanting him so much. I feel my cheeks flush as I straighten the straps of my black tank top out of nervous habit.

"Yeah, nothin' my ass. Why you all the time watchin' me?" His face in a scowl.

I try to regain my confidence, hell, I was a good looking woman. I was smart. I was funny. Why should I be so worried? It's the end of the world anyway.

I step over closer to him but there are still inches in between us, "I think you know why, Dare." I drop my eyes to his feet and work them up to his angry, scowling face.

"Naw, I don't. And I don't like it. Ya all the time lookin' at me and tryin' to touch me. Ya know I don't like bein' touched!" He slung his crossbow fiercely over his shoulder.

"I think you do like it and that's what bothers you. You don't know how to respond," I try to rationalize.

"I. Don't." He says through clenched teeth.

"Jesus, I swear, you are one uptight fuck...always-" I spit out then I stop myself, immediately regretting what I just allow to come from my mouth.

"Yer just a hoity-toity bitch!" His eyes were on fire, as he turned away from me and made his way through the dining room, violently knocking chairs out of his way.

"Shit," I mutter to myself as I follow after him.

I stand at the kitchen doorjamb watching him bitterly toss some bags of rice and miscellaneous cans onto the steel buffet, each hitting with a Clang!

Him and all his glorious rage. I couldn't handle myself. As he turned to cabinets to grab from the top shelf, I came behind him, pulling him around by his shoulders (his magnificent shoulders, may I add). I lean into him, wedging him between my body and the cupboard.

"What the hell, wom-" He protests as I put my finger over his lips. His eyebrows furrow in resentment.

"I want to thank you, for saving my life, and risking yours every single day," I say. He begins to move his lips to form a word, but I stop him, "Shh. I want to thank you, Daryl," I press my hipbones into his to give him the idea, "I'm not asking you to love me, you don't even have to kiss me, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. But, hey, we could be dead tomorrow, think about it like that, and if that's the case I don't want to never have done this," I say, pulling my finger away from his lips to fumble with the buttons on his shirt, my eyes never losing contact with his.

His chest begins to rise and fall harshly, as I pluck the top three buttons of his shirt undone. His thick fingers wrap around my small wrists, "I can't...I mean I ain't...it's been years," he tries to catch his breath and formulate a proper sentence.

I moisten my dry bottom lip with my tongue, "All the more reason to, eh?"

His grip on my wrists loosens as I continue to unfasten the buttons of his flannel. I begin to place kisses down his sweaty, bare chest...something I had fantasized about doing since the first time I saw him without his shirt on.

"I-I don't know 'bout this," he pants, frozen in place. I wish he would touch me, tangle his fist in my hair, rip my clothes away from my body and shove me into the drywall...but he's like a wounded animal, scared to death.

I ignore his uncertainty, knowing that Daryl could stop me if he wanted me to stop. I kiss down all the way to the hem of jeans, dropping to my knees and hungrily unlatching the small silver button and undoing the zipper. I shimmy the denim material a little lower than his hips. I grin at his boxers, Christmas boxers in the middle of July, they're red with holly berries on them (hell, in the ZA, you take what you can find). I almost want to giggle, but I don't as I notice Daryl's hand trembling fiercely at his side.

"Daryl, tell me now if you want to me stop...because once this really starts, I don't think either one of us is going to be able to control ourselves," I look up at him from the floor, trying to deliberate before I make the poor guy do something he really doesn't want, though the bulge in his boxers says otherwise. I pull his jeans down until they are banked at his ankles.

"I-I want it," he says, his eyes tightly shut.

"Don't be afraid of me, Dare."

"I'm not...fuck, I'm not, but I ain't the kinda man that does this kinda stuff," he momentarily opens his eyes and looks down at me.

"I know you aren't. Nobody will ever have to know. This can be our little secret," I smile playfully as I reach into his boxers. "This can be our one time thing," I wrap my hand around his...wow...large member as he tilts his head back, once again closing his eyes.

"One time?" he meekly whispers, gripping onto the shelving at his side.

"Or any time...any time you want," I promise as I begin to stroke his throbbing sex.

Daryl doesn't reply, he just bites his lip as his clutch on the shelf turns his knuckles white. A bit of precum drips from his tip, I offer up my tongue, gently flicking the head a few times to see what reaction I could get from "Mr. I'm not that kind of man."

"Fuck, woman..." he breathed, barely audible. I look up at him, his eyes are still closed, he still has that death grip on the cupboard shelf behind him.

Continuing to pump his length, I use my free hand to pull his away from the shelf. He looks down at me questioningly, as I place his hand on the back of my head, "Don't just stand there, Dixon," I grin playfully. He smiles crookedly, still uncertain. I return my attention to his exorbitant cock, taking every last inch into my mouth as the head hits the back of my throat.

"Holy fuckin' shit!" he moans, grabbing up a fistful of my raven locks and pulling.

"Mmm!" I hum appreciatively, still bobbing up and down, caressing his outer thighs mildly with my nails.

"Fuck, where'd you learn how to...how to..." he can't even finish his sentence as he gasps again, putting both hands in my hair, pulling my face hard into his crotch. Harder. And harder.

I give his thigh a quick smack as he releases his vice on my head, I lean back for air. "Good grief, Daryl, trying to suffocate me?!" I ask, wiping my mouth with my arm.

"S-sorry," he looks down at me, his cheeks flushed.

I almost feel bad for embarrassing him, but I don't say anything. I rise up from the floor, gripping my hands onto those delicious biceps. I try to disrobe him from his unbuttoned shirt but he quickly stops me with a shake of the head. I don't question this, I know he has scars. He doesn't know I've seen them, so I decide not to make a big deal of it. I return my attention to his always exposed arms, running my hands up and down them, feeling each ripple in the muscles.

"I love your arms, Dare. What do you like about me?"

"I mean, yer a nice lookin' woman and all-" he shrugs awkwardly. I try so hard not to laugh at him. He's such a bad ass, but yet so helpless and adorable at the same time.

I let out a small giggle as I find the bottom fringe of my tank top, and pull it over my head. If there is one thing I'm confident in, it's the power of having nice tits. My light pink bra is slightly stained from sweat and dirt, but it still does it's job on making my tits look perky.

"Um, I like those...I like them...about you...I, uh-" Daryl stammers, unable to look away from my chest. I decide to be a peach and give him the full monty, quickly unfastening my bra and letting it fall off my shoulders and arms to the floor.

Just to save time, because Daryl will just stand there gawking if I don't, I grab his left hand, cupping it to my right breast. His hand is immobile as he looks at me in wide-eyed fear. I sigh. Poor guy doesn't know what to do. "They're attached, they won't come off...you can, you know, play with them," I say, grabbing his right hand and cupping it to my other breast.

His fingers tremble against the tender flesh of my nipples as he slowly kneads them in his hand, I lightly place my hands over his, gently tracing his fingers. "That feels good," I whisper, trying to boost his confidence.

"Yeah?" he soberly asks, his eyes still not leaving my chest.

"Yeah," I smile, removing my hands from atop his, as I undo the button on my Levi's, forgetting about the .380 in my waistband as it clangs to floor, causing us both to jump back from the other. We meet each others' eyes and for the first time Daryl lets out a chuckle.

"Damn near scared the shit outta me," he grins. It occurs to me he doesn't smile enough, as I work out of my jeans and undies at the same time. His grin quickly fades. "This is...really gonna happen?"

"I'm naked now, no turning back," I smile, closing in on him, pressing my body hard against his. I smile at the feeling of his hard cock pressed into my thigh.

His large hands rest on the backs of my arms. I rest my mouth on the crook his neck. He smells so much like a man...motor oil, musk, sweat, that "outdoorsy" odor, but it doesn't bother me. I barely nip the curve of his neck, mapping my mouth all the way to his collarbones, I feel his dick jump at each little bite, I stifle a triumphal laugh as his grip tenses on my arms.

"You can, we can, uh, kiss, if ya wanna...I mean, I ain't no good at it or nothin' but...I wanna kiss ya," he whispers against my hair.

I lean up from my assault on his collarbone and push a few strands of his unruly hair from his eyes while his hands trail to the small of my back. I give a half-smile as I press my lips against his. And, fuck, this man was lying about not being good at kissing. The moment my tongue parts his lips, he grasps the back of my head, exploring my whole mouth with his tongue. My skin breaks into goosebumps as his tongue lightly tickles my palate. Before he pulls away, I catch his bottom lip between my teeth and let out a little growl as he lets out an airy laugh.

"Fuck me, Dare," I whisper against his mouth.

"Right now?" he raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, right now," I giggle. "I'm so fucking wet for you," I give him a sheepish grin.

Never moving his face from mine, his rough calloused hand runs up my inner thigh, stopping right at the apex. He pauses for only a moment before sliding his fingers along my slick slit. He breathes hard against my cheek.

"You wouldn't lyin'," he says.

"How could I not be wet for you, Daryl?" I run my hand between us and give his shaft a tender caress with my fingertip, as if to remind him.

He abruptly slides two of his fingers inside of me, causing me to gasp and jump up on my tip-toes, "Fuck, Daryl!" I grab hold of his shoulders to regain my balance and dig my nails into them as he begins fucking me vigorously with his thick digits. I feel the moisture of his precum on my leg while I grind hard against his body, "I need you to fuck me, so bad," I whine in his ear, raking my nails down his arms.

Removing his hand, he comes at me fast and hard, moving me backwards a few steps until my ass hits the buffet table. He reaches around me the rake off the cans and bags of food. His eyes are rabid, wasting no time he lifts me by my waist onto the table with me just barely sitting on the edge, positioning himself between my knees. This is it, the moment all this was building to. I feel his throbbing head at my entrance, I wrap my legs around his waist and link my hands behind his neck. He reaches around me, cupping my ass in his hands, pulling our sexes together as he slides into me with ease. He's definitely the biggest man I'd ever been with, he fills me up completely. It aches but is so delicious at the same time.

"Mmm, Dare..."

"Yer tight," he groans, resting his forehead on my shoulder.

"Complaining?" I ask, nearly breathless.

"Hell naw," he raises up and smiles at me as he begins to thrust in and out of me, the skin of his hips slapping against my olive thighs.

My nails keep catching between his shoulder blades, this must bother him because he soon untangles my hands from behind his neck and pin them down at my sides, never stopping the movement of his hips. I try hard to keep my legs wrapped around his waist but as I near my release, every nerve from the waist down is jumping. My legs lose their clasp and I fall back onto the table, my pulse racing.

"The floor," I say as Daryl looks at me in confusion. "Get on the floor, I want to ride you."

Daryl unenthusiastically pulls out of me, quickly settling on the floor as I climb down from the table and make my way on top of him.

"Damn, woman," he says as I lower myself on his erection, his hands automatically finding their way to my breasts.

I lean back, my hands resting on his knees, giving him a full view as he bucks wildly underneath me, letting a few cries out between his hard, panting breaths. I reach between us, circling my middle finger around my swollen clit; my hand almost immediately smacked away by Daryl's.

"Mine," he snarls, taking his thumb and replacing my finger.

"Oh, fuck," I hiss, my nails clawing from his thighs to his knees.

He circles my clit followed by gently flicking it, as I grind my cunt into him as hard as I can.

"I'm gonna come, Daryl," I squirm, my voice breaking in between my moans.

My walls collapse and contract so hard, so fast that it nearly forces him out of me. He grabs onto my hips and holds me down to keep his straining prick inside of me. The tensing of my walls must send him over the edge because he instantaneously falls back, his grip on my hips so tight I can feel myself bruising under his calloused touch. I can feel every throb, every twitch of his emptying member.

I crash down onto his chest as he wraps his arms around me. Still inside me, he doesn't move. We don't speak. Just the sound of our breathing.

Daryl finally breaks the solace, "Yer welcome."

"Huh?" I lazily lift my head to look at him.

"Well, you told me you wanted to thank me...so yer welcome," he smiles, brushing my long bangs away from my face.

"I plan on saying thank you more often," I lean down and peck him on the lips.


End file.
